On the Second Day of Christmas
by Hannah Lynn McDonald
Summary: Companion piece to 'On the First Day of Christmas'. But set a few years later.


**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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Jo wrapped her jumper tighter around herself, smiling as she glanced out the window at the snow-covered world outside. She took a sip of her coffee and glanced at the clock, content to know that she had a few days off from work and could sleep in past noon if she wanted to.

The toast popped out of the toaster, and she quickly buttered it up, sprinkling some cinnamon and sugar on top and taking a bite. She leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes. Although she might dislike snow, it was nice when she didn't have to go out in it. The streets would likely be cleared in a few days, but she could enjoy it – from safely inside – while it lasted.

A knock sounded on her door and she frowned, setting her toast aside on the counter and padding through her house to see who was knocking at this hour (nearly eleven in the morning, but she just got up, so it still counted...).

She opened her front door, sighing as she saw the medical examiner standing on her step. "Henry? What are you doing here?"

He was bundled up warmly, but his trousers were splattered with mud and soaked with snow; as he had likely walked most of the way to her house. He glanced over her, and kept his arms behind his back. "Good morning, Jo. Have you eaten?"

"...Yes. Why?"

"'Tis a lovely day."

"...I suppose some might say so."

He nodded, glancing up at the grey sky. As he looked back at her with a distinctly mischievous expression, she seriously considered shutting the door and hiding in the room farthest from him. Seconds later, she dropped her coffee cup with a startled gasp as a snowball broke apart on her shoulder. She looked down at the remnants of white flakes dusting the dark green of her jumper, and then up to Henry in surprise.

He was grinning at her as if he were a young child who had just discovered a pile of presents beneath the tree – a relieving expression that was both in and out of place on the Doctor. "I would definitely say so."

She glared at him, stepping out onto the porch and shutting the door behind her. "Did you learn nothing from the last time we did this? I will beat you – and then I'm sending you home and sending every single winter after this in the Sahara!" She quickly formed a snowball and threw it at him. "No snow!"

He ducked, barely, but his smile refused to fade. "But Detective, what would Christmas be without snow?"

"Have you ever grown up?"

His laugh was unrepentant as he threw another ball at her. "Never at Christmas!"

"Oh...that's it." She scooped up some more snow and chased Henry down the steps as he retreated from her, still laughing. "This is the last year I'm doing this – next year, I'll ignore you!"

"You say that every year, Jo!"

"Yes!" She retorted, dodging some of his throws. "And one of these years I won't take pity on you!"

"Ah, Jo – you always forget about it."

She refused to answer that, settling for throwing several snowballs at him and grinning in triumph when they hit and he stumbled back and fell into a snowbank only to jump back up rearmed.

* * *

Abe relaxed into the chair, closing his eyes and listening to the music he had put on earlier. Henry had left a few hours ago, and Abe had taken the chance to relax – knowing that he was safe from any phone calls from his father.

Seconds later, the phone rang.

He sighed and got up to answer it, wondering why the Fates hated them so much. "Yeah? Abe here."

"Abraham Morgan! Come pick up your father right this minute! And if he comes over to start a snowball fight again, I'll shoot him and leave him to freeze in the river!"

Abe grinned, knowing she didn't entirely mean it. "Who won?"

"We don't know," She admitted, and he could hear a teakettle whistling in the background before being shut off. "Henry tripped and knocked himself out, so we came inside. He's fine though – nothing else wrong with him."

Abe could hear his father's indignant protests that were abruptly silenced. When Jo came back on, he could hear both of them laughing.

"Well, it sounds like you had fun."

"My warning still stands; and you have five minutes before I put Henry out on the front porch to wait for you – I wanted to relax today."

Abe could hear her carry a cup in for Henry, accepting his thanks.

"By the way, is there any leftover lasagna?"

"There always is – why?"

"Alright. I'll bring Henry over then – see you soon!"

He shook his head and hung up the phone, making his way into the kitchen. It was good that she knew – that Henry would have someone to pull him out of his brooding when he needed it. If the price he had to pay was going through his lasagna faster, then so be it.

Now, as long as Jo didn't get the idea to save snowballs until the middle of summer...

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_AN: Well, that's only taken me two months to get around to writing... Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! Gramercy, and God bless!_


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